


A Quiet Revolution

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-01
Updated: 2010-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 09:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the discovery of Earth leaves Bill with the feeling that things couldn't get any worse, he welcomes a development he can feel good about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quiet Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> Winner in the first-time, slash category at bsg_kink's Kink Off.

Saul had kissed Bill once.

It was twenty-five years ago and he was falling-down drunk, probably in one of the worst states Bill had ever seen him in. He'd slurred something about Bill being the best friend a guy could have and then, all of a sudden, he'd been trying to stick his tongue down Bill's throat.

Saul had thrown up in the gutter a minute later and Bill had been very thankful when he seemed to forget about it the next morning, because he would have apologized, and Bill hadn't wanted to sit through the awkwardness of an apology.

It made him squirm just thinking about it: the rough, clumsy, probing kiss. Sometimes, he'd catch himself just staring at Saul, wondering how it would feel if he kissed him, just leaned over the table while they were going through paperwork and kissed him. Not that Bill had a thing for Saul. It was purely intellectual curiosity, and he hadn't thought about it in years.

For some reason, it came back after he'd found out what Saul was.

He wasn't sure why Saul being a Cylon put that particular thought in his mind—if anything, being a Cylon should have turned Bill off completely. He wished it had. Instead, he couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop imagining what it might feel like to kiss Saul, properly this time. To kiss him or do more, even. He'd never fantasized about another man before, but recently, it seemed like it was all Saul, all the time.

The phone rang, jerking Bill from his reverie. He sighed. He wished he could just turn it off, get rid of all the pressure. He flexed his fingers, remembering how the dirt had felt in them, the dead Earth in his hand making his healing wound sting.

By this time, the phone had stopped ringing.

He shut the book on his lap and threw it aside, flopping back down on his rumpled sheets. He needed to find a way out somehow, needed a _break_ , time to think. He closed his eyes, tried to make himself sleep.

He had just dropped off when he heard the hatch open. He sat up, fumbling for his glasses. It was probably Laura. He didn't want to face her, the way she'd just look at him like she could read his mind.

He was already planning what to say to her when he slipped his glasses on and saw that it was Saul.

"Hey," said Saul. Bill felt his stomach drop. He'd thought after the brush-off he'd given him when they'd returned to _Galactica_ after surveying the planet, Saul would have stayed away.

He looked good, unlike Bill. He was in uniform—duty blues, clean-shaven and reasonably well-put-together, which made him look somehow out of place in Bill's messy quarters. Bill should have realized he wouldn't take no for an answer, that he would use the intervening couple of hours to get cleaned up and track Bill down.

"What do _you_ want?" he asked sourly.

"I want to talk to you," said Saul, standing with his hands behind his back.

"Okay, talk." Bill waved his bandaged hand invitingly. Saul could talk all he wanted; it didn't mean Bill had to listen.

"Come on," said Saul. He strode over to Bill. "If I'm going to talk, you're going to get out of that bed and listen to what I have to say."

Bill scowled.

Saul reached out for Bill's arm to drag him out of bed, but he shook him away. "Get off me," he muttered, untangling his legs from the sheets. "Have it your way. I'm coming."

Saul waited expectantly on the couch. Bill padded barefoot across the room and threw himself down next to Saul. "Okay," he said.

Saul took a deep breath. His eye flicked to the bottle of booze sitting on the table, but then turned resolutely back to Bill.

"I don't know what I am," he said calmly, as if he'd written this down and memorized it, which, when Bill thought about it, he probably had. "I'm a Cylon and I used to live down there on the planet. I don't know any more than that." He paused, gauging Bill's reaction.

Bill didn't react, since he already knew this part.

Saul went on. "Someway, somehow, I don't even know—none of us do—I wound up all the way over on Caprica. After their… _our_ Centurions nuked Earth."

Bill had to admit that some part of him was impressed with Saul's composure. Despite the fact that Bill wasn't saying anything to indicate he cared, Saul kept talking. When he put his mind to it, he was good.

"I guess somebody programmed these false memories into me." He shrugged. "And then I met you and we became friends, and, well, you know the rest. You were there for it." He gave a small smile.

Bill didn't say anything, so Saul barreled on.

"I was in real bad shape when I met you. And that was real, Bill. I can tell… somehow. I mean, it all feels real, but…" He trailed off, clearly having expected Bill to start a conversation with him by now. He moistened his lips. "Our friendship was real." He paused. "And, Bill, I…I… I really do…" He rubbed the side of his nose.

Bill suddenly wondered again whether Saul might have a thing for him. Once again, he got that odd feeling of not minding, sort of a prickle on the back of his neck.

Bill wondered if maybe he was being too hard on Saul. He hadn't done anything, hadn't changed. This was still the same guy he'd always been, hell, he was more with it than he'd _ever_ been. Bill was the one falling apart now.

He reached for the bottle on the table. Saul didn't stop him, but he said, "You think that's such a good idea, Bill?"

Bill sighed. "Frak if I know." But he grabbed the bottle anyway and took a swig, needing to feel the burn on the back of his throat.

Saul frowned. "We switching places? I'm supposed to be in charge now, is that it?"

For a second, Bill contemplated giving Saul his pins again, letting him take over for good. He wouldn't do a bad job of it, come to think.

"I never should've told them all that crap about Earth," Bill muttered.

Saul was quiet for a moment. "It gave them hope," he offered.

"Yeah, and look where that got us."

Saul looked exasperated. "What are you going to do about it?" he asked sharply.

Bill was startled. "I don't know," he murmured.

Saul didn't say anything about that. Instead, he said, "How's your hand?" He reached out tentatively and Bill flinched.

It was a platonic gesture, but Bill could not dismiss his recent train of thought from his mind. He suddenly found himself hoping very much that Saul would kiss him.

Was that what he wanted? Forget about all the pressure, forget about the dead hunk of rock they were in orbit around. He'd already let everybody down by bringing them here. He imagined just losing himself in Saul. It seemed like it would fix a lot.

"Bill, are you okay?" Saul was still holding his hand.

It was like an itch now, an itch on his back he couldn't reach. He needed _something_ to change, something to get better.

"I'm fine," he said, flexing his fingers, brushing them against Saul's.

Saul said nothing, but he didn't let go.

"I'm sorry," said Bill. "I got us into this mess. If not by leading us here, then all the way back on _Valkyrie_ , I—"

"You didn't," Saul murmured, clasping Bill's hand gently between both of his. "You didn't do anything wrong, Bill. What else were you supposed to do?"

"I don't know," Bill repeated.

"Hey," said Saul. "Look at me." He waited until Bill did. "It's not your fault, okay? None of it."

Bill glanced down at their hands, still touching. Saul seemed to notice, too, because he instantly drew back, looking nervous.

"How long is this going to last?" Bill wondered aloud. "When do we stop running?"

Saul frowned. "I wish I could tell you." He looked down, seeming not to know where to put his hands. Bill had never really paid attention to his hands, but he liked them.

Bill wanted to say something else, but he thought the tightness in his stomach had exhausted all his words. Instead, not knowing what had come over him, he leaned forward and kissed Saul.

He didn't know where to put his hands either, so he kept them resting on his own thighs, being careful not to touch Saul in case he was rebuffed. Pressing his lips to Saul's was exhilarating enough; it took several seconds for Bill to realize Saul was kissing back.

Bill's memory of the first kiss was somewhat dulled, both by all the years that had passed and all the alcohol he'd been drinking that night. He'd sort of lost a clear picture of what kissing Saul felt like. It was much better than he remembered. Saul's lips were a little rough and he tasted like he'd just brushed his teeth.

Despite the fact that Bill had initiated the kiss, Saul was slowly taking control, sliding closer across the couch and reaching his hand for the back of Bill's neck, gently tilting his head. The tightness in his gut had become spreading warmth and Bill could almost forget about the planet below, or the way their knees were bumping together awkwardly.

He'd lost track of time until they broke apart, and when they did, Bill felt disoriented. All he could do was sit there, staring at Saul, his hands still firmly grasping Saul's shoulders. This was _Saul_ , his best friend, a _Cylon_ , and Bill had enjoyed that, _wanted to do it again_.

"Well, this is a surprise," said Saul. Bill couldn't help thinking the dazed expression on his face was kind of endearing. "You want this, Bill?"

"Yeah," he said, and it was true. He wanted this—no, _needed_ this—more than he could ever remember needing anything. He leaned in and kissed him again, but Saul put his hand on Bill's shoulder.

"Hey," he said, sounding a little nervous. "Let's take our time, okay? No need to rush."

Bill ignored him. He _wanted_ to rush, wanted to just forget about everything else. With each passing second, he liked the idea of him and Saul more and more. Sex. It had been ages since Bill had had sex. Having sex might be nice.

"Come on," he said. "Let's do this."

Saul hesitated. He looked at Bill, his gaze no less intense for his one eye, but he wavered. Bill knew he would. He always did.

There was a beat and Saul pulled back. "You really mean this." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," said Bill calmly.

Saul paused, studying him. He swallowed hard, and then rested his palms on either side of Bill's face, gently pulling him in for another kiss.

Time passed in a haze. All Bill could focus on was Saul—how good a kisser he was, how his hands were tangling in Bill's hair, how his tongue was teasing Bill's own.

Suddenly, Saul paused, and for a moment, Bill was afraid that he was stopping. He was about to tell him not to, when Saul did what was probably the exact opposite of stopping. He moved closer and gingerly slid his hand up under Bill's shirt.

The warmth in Bill's chest shot straight down. It was amazing how Saul's hand gently moving over his stomach while they kissed could have such an effect on him. Bill felt a tingle in his spine, as Saul moved from his attention from his lips and began trailing kisses down his neck.

"Saul?"

"Mm?" Saul nipped lazily at Bill's collarbone, which made him squirm.

"You want me to take my shirt off?" It sounded so stupid saying it out loud, and Saul chuckled.

He pulled back. "I guess I should have asked if you had plans," he said, smirking.

Bill thought of what else he could be doing—probably going over more survey materials brought up from the planet, or something else just as utterly uninteresting as not kissing Saul. He shook his head. "Nope. No plans." He stripped off his tanks.

He leaned in to kiss Saul again, his fingers going for the buttons of his jacket. He fumbled a little, feeling clumsy and uncoordinated with the bandage on his hand, but Saul went to help him, and together they got them undone.

Finished with their task, Saul's hands moved down, brushing Bill's crotch, ever so lightly. Oh, that felt frakking amazing. Bill let out an involuntary hiss.

"You want to keep going?" Saul asked.

Suddenly, a rush of nerves hit Bill. It must have been obvious, because Saul asked, "You okay?"

Bill swallowed hard. "Yeah," he said.

His relationship with Saul was potentially changing, suddenly, rapidly so. It was a little overwhelming, the idea that he and Saul could be like this now. It was a lot to process. He didn't want to stop here, he knew that much.

"Don't want to stop," said Bill, surprising himself at his insistence. "Saul." He paused. "Let's keep going."

He tried to help Saul undress, but he was too distracted by their kisses. Somehow though, Saul was naked and pushing himself off the couch to kneel between Bill's legs.

"You're still too dressed," he observed, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of Bill's shorts. Bill shifted obligingly and Saul slid them off with practiced ease.

"So," he drawled, brushing the underside of Bill's shaft lightly with his thumb, right in the most perfect spot. "What do you want to do?"

Bill found he could barely form words with Saul's hand where it was. His cock twitched and he cleared his throat. "You decide," he managed.

Saul grinned. "Okay. Here goes." He paused. "Been a while since I've done this." He sounded a little bit nervous again.

"It's okay," said Bill, feeling stupid. "I've never done this before."

Saul laughed and shook his head, but he bent forward anyway.

He started out maddeningly slow, licking long, careful lines from base to tip, and it was all Bill could do to keep from crying out in frustration. He _wanted_ to go fast, that was the whole point. He needed to lose himself in this, but he also wanted to savor this, savor Saul—though he hoped this wouldn't be the only time this happened.

Saul must have known how crazy this was making him, because he paused to swirl his tongue lazily around the head of Bill's cock, going even slower than before.

"You like that, hm?" he asked, cupping Bill's balls with his free hand and letting his fingertips brush the skin just behind them.

Bill tried to say "Yes," but it came out more like "Hrngh."

Saul's response to this was to suck, hard. Bill's hips bucked and he gasped loudly, making Saul chuckle, low in his throat. He released him with a pop. "Quiet, now."

Bill snorted. "I don't frakking care if the whole Fleet hears me."

Saul smirked. "Is that a challenge?"

Bill was about to answer when Saul lowered his head again and got back to work, tongue flicking in the most perfect spots. Again, Bill wasn't sure what to do with his hands, so he let them range over all the parts of Saul he could reach, his hair, the side of his face. He wanted to show him he liked where this was going, that he was doing a good job.

And then he stopped.

Bill hissed as the rush of cool air hit his cock in the absence of Saul's mouth. "Godsdammit," he muttered, shuddering. Saul chuckled and began jerking Bill slowly, clearly enjoying teasing him like this.

"Let's move," said Bill suddenly.

"Move?" asked Saul, sounding surprised. He let go of Bill. "You mean to bed?"

Bill raised an eyebrow. "Where else were you planning to go?"

Saul grinned, and Bill suddenly realized he didn't mind the eyepatch so much anymore. It seemed to fit now, just part of Saul's face. Still smiling, he stood and offered Bill his hand.

Bill was only dimly aware of them moving across his quarters and dropping into his rack, a tangle of arms and legs, needing to make up for the few seconds' worth of kisses they'd missed.

"You keep wanting to rush," Saul observed, as Bill wriggled against him so their cocks were touching. "I think we should take our time." He drew himself up on Bill's body, denying him the contact.

Again, it hit Bill that Saul was a Cylon. A machine. He was having sex with a machine. The jumble of thoughts ran on a loop in his mind until Saul kissed him again.

"You okay?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Yeah," said Bill, dismissing the thoughts. This was Saul. Just Saul. Nothing more than that.

"Good," said Saul, trailing his hands down Bill's arms. "I want to take my time."

Bill supposed he could live with that, as Saul went on exploring his body, slowly, but with clear interest, his hands and mouth caressing every inch, to see what Bill liked. His cock throbbed with each second it went without being touched, but Saul seemed to be avoiding it on purpose, straddling him so that no part of his body came in contact with it.

"Relax," Saul murmured, running his hands down Bill's sides. "You've been so tense lately."

Bill tried to do just that, tried to clear his mind. Saul was massaging him gently, sliding his hands between Bill and the mattress to knead his ass. Bill closed his eyes and relaxed into Saul's firm touches, letting his breathing grow even.

"See?" said Saul. "That's much better." He gently kissed his way up Bill's stomach and across his chest. When he got to his right nipple, Bill's eyes shot open.

Saul's eye flicked up to meet Bill's for a second and then he bit down. Bill thrust up against him, surprised at his own reaction.

"Right there," he groaned. "Please, Saul, right there."

"Right where?" Saul teased, continuing to move up until he was nibbling on Bill's collarbone.

Bill hissed. "Right there works, too." Saul laughed again, which Bill decided was pretty sexy, and let his hands drift down again to rest on Bill's hips, as he gave the nipple more attention, which got him a loud groan.

"Your turn," Bill said, hoping the wall by his rack was especially thick.

"Had enough?" Saul asked.

"Just trying to be fair." He looped an arm around Saul's neck, pulling him in for a long kiss and worked his other hand between them, wrapping it around the base of Saul's cock, which had been pressing maddeningly against his own thigh.

Coming at it from this angle was different, he reflected, but mostly it was just like what he'd be doing if he was by himself. Just backwards, and a little uncomfortable with his bandaged hand.

He began stroking him slowly, reveling in the fact that he was responsible for the noises Saul was making against his ear, the way his arms were shaking as he braced himself on the mattress.

"Thought you wanted to be quiet," said Bill, giving Saul's cock a lazy tug, letting his thumb rub against the head.

Saul looked like he was going to glare at Bill, but was incapable of it. "Frak, Bill, just… _Frak_."

Bill had just thrust upwards again, his cock brushing Saul's again. It had felt amazing the first time and Bill was trying to replicate it, though it was somewhat hard doing all the work from the bottom, when he'd really prefer it if Saul would just press _down_.

"Hang on," said Saul, panting. He spat on his hand and then moved back to their cocks, wrapping his hand around both of them together. "I got this."

Bill laughed and leaned back on his elbows. "Am I that bad?"

"No, no." Saul spat on his hand again. "You're not doing anything wrong. You'll get better."

Bill didn't reply to this—for one, he wasn't sure whether or not to feel insulted by Saul's casual tone, but he liked the idea that Saul assumed they'd be doing this again. He was struck by how the tables had turned. Saul seemed to have none of Bill's awkwardness. He actually kind of liked how Saul was running the show. He debated saying something, but decided against it.

Instead, he tilted Saul's chin up, making him look away from his handiwork and kissed him again, wrapping his arms around Saul's shoulders. A few seconds later, he felt Saul's slick hand work its way between them again.

Bill jerked forward, the desire for more friction nearly overpowering his thoughts. Pressing kisses to any part of Saul's face he could reach, he arched against him, desperate for the contact. "This is fantastic," he murmured between kisses. "You're frakking fantastic."

Saul snickered. "You're frakking fantastic, too," he said, kissing Bill's forehead.

Bill thrust forward against Saul, feeling the warmth spread through him. He knew he was close and Saul quickened his pace, rubbing their cocks together more desperately until Bill climaxed, groaning against Saul's lips.

As soon as he was able to open his eyes, Bill darted his left hand—his good hand—between them and began tugging lightly on Saul's cock, making Saul squirm on top of him.

"Gods, Bill," he hissed, thrusting into Bill's hand. "Keep doing that."

Bill did as he was told, quickening his pace, just as Saul had, when he noticed Saul clench his jaw, close to orgasm. He shuddered as he came in Bill's hand, gasping his name, which gave Bill an unexpected thrill of pleasure.

Bill lay still for a moment as the world came back into focus, savoring the warm feeling of Saul's body covering his, the tingling in his extremities. Sex felt just as good as he remembered it, if not better. Maybe he'd been storing up for it.

"Saul," he finally whispered. "That was… that was…"

"Good?" Saul kissed him. "Thanks." He looked serious, but Bill could tell there was a hint of a smile in his features. Even with one eye, Bill could read him like a book.

"I should thank you," said Bill, reaching up to stroke the hair on the back of Saul's head. "For putting up with me."

Saul laughed. "No trouble at all. Be right back." He kissed Bill and slid off him, getting out of bed and disappearing into the head.

Bill sighed and lay back on his pillow. Here they were. The die had been cast, so to speak, and he thought he rather liked the outcome. If he'd known three years ago that this was coming, he wouldn't have believed it.

His thoughts were interrupted when Saul returned, offering him a towel.

"I hope you plan on staying," said Bill, looking up at Saul, who was perched on the edge of his rack.

Saul grinned. "If you want me to."

Bill pitched the towel out of the way onto the floor. "I want you to," he said, sliding over so Saul could join him. It took them a minute to get comfortable—Bill wasn't used to sharing his bed, especially not with another man, but they found a way to fit together comfortably.

"So," said Saul, absently rubbing Bill's arm. "Where do we go from here?"

Bill felt his stomach twist. They couldn't go on like this, could they? But he wanted it. He was sick of not doing what he wanted. "I'd like to…" He paused. "This was good, Saul. Really good. You ever want to do it again, I'm up for it."

Saul kissed the back of his neck. "That's nice to know, but it's not what I meant. I meant about Earth."

"Oh."

Saul squeezed his shoulder, a reassuring gesture. "But I'm glad you liked this. Really glad. And I'd love to do it again." He chuckled.

"Good." Bill paused. "I guess we should leave. We can't stay here."

Saul yawned and Bill suddenly realized he was tired, too, unsurprising after the day they'd had.

"We should get some sleep," Saul said. "Think about getting out of here. There's no point in staying any longer than we have to. Look what it's done to us."

Bill said nothing, but he silently agreed, thinking of how everyone had felt when they'd learned the truth about Earth. For a second, he felt despair wash over him again, but Saul slipped his arm around Bill and pulled him closer.

"It'll work out," Saul promised him sleepily. "We'll find someplace to settle down, some other world. You and me, all of us—together."

"Yeah," Bill murmured. "Together."

Saul kissed his temple and lay down; it didn't take long for him to fall asleep. Bill closed his eyes, too, and settled his head on Saul's arm. He knew that the road ahead would be difficult, as much as he wanted to believe Saul. It would be hard, but at least now it might be a little bit more bearable.


End file.
